All the Time in the World
by Haelwyn
Summary: He'd always wanted to become an adult quickly, while she's constantly dreading growing up. So little alike, yet so much in common; a chance meeting, unknown thieves, and several chases later, they may need all the time in the world to sort out their lives
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

"Morning, Victor," Scipio called cheerfully, as he approached the detective, right outside the door of his private detective office. He sauntered up to him, in his high-heeled boots that were finally the right size for his feet.

"It's Mr. Getz to you, lad," the detective snapped back, different from his usual carefree, laid-back self. He also seemed to be holding the door open just a crack, peeking inside carefully. "And keep your voice down."

"So what's on our job list for today? Spying on our own detective office?" Scip dropped his voice to a whisper, standing next to the man, trying to peek inside as well.

"Well, no. It seems someone's beaten us to that. There's a snoop sleeping in my chair," Victor said, eyeing the figure behind his desk, head tilted upward, mouth loosely agape.

"That shouldn't be a surprise since half the time you _are_ sleeping in your chair-," Scipio said wittily, but Victor gave him a stern look that discouraged further humor. He cleared his throat. "So what's our plan, Detective Getz?"

Victor closed the door soundlessly and turned to his assistant. "Okay, on the count of three, we burst into the office and surround the little bugger from both sides. I'll go left, and - what? No. It doesn't matter who goes left and who goes right, so anyway, - you go right. We catch him, tie him up - what's that? Well do you have any other suggestions? Fine, _loosely bind_ him to the chair - and then question him. Okay, got that?"

Scipio merely nodded, having exhausted his energies at contradicting the old man. They crouched into a ready position, and Victor's hand slowly and silently twisted the doorknob, counting softly, and signaling with his other hand.

"One, two, three!-,"

The chair behind Victor's desk was empty. They creeped into the room, looking around cautiously.

"Where'd he go?" Victor said, finally reaching his desk. He looked behind the chair, under the table, and started opening the drawers as Scipio looked around the other furniture in the room.

They hardly noticed the sound of a toilet flushing from the bathroom, but jumped at the sound of the door shutting close.

"Aah!" Victor shouted, slamming the drawer at the same time, as he spotted the person at the door of the bathroom.

"Aah!" Scipio shouted, nearly falling over the short coffee table in the middle of the room.

"Aaah!" shouted the startled intruder, knocking back against the bathroom door, now shut.

For a few seconds, they all stared at each other in the small office, breathing hard.

"Sorry, just had to use the bathroom for a bit," the intruder said, in a voice that was hardly beyond the teenage years. "Sorry about that, I know I probably should have asked permission from Mr. Getz first."

"Ask permission? You're trespassing, boy! Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my office?" Victor Getz finally found his voice and was now walking towards the kid.

"Ah! Your office? Detective Victor Getz, I presume?" the intruder said, suddenly holding a hand out to the approaching detective, seeming not to notice the anger building up. "Ah, wait, I should explain first."

"Yes, please explain, before I call the _polizia_," Victor said, looking the intruder up and down, noticing how skinny he was, although he was rather tall. "Or your parents."

"No, no need for that really, actually, I came here early because I wanted to talk to you before I'm found by -," the intruder said in a rushed tone, now obviously agitated.

There suddenly came a loud series of knocks on the door. "Please, come in," Victor shouted in reply.

A woman and a man entered the office, dressed rather haughtily. The intruder stared in disbelief, finishing her sentence "- my parents."


	2. 01 Bonds

(Hullo, my first Thief Lord fic. I've thought of several plots before this one, but this sounded the most fun to write, even if it is kind of cliché. I highly recommend you read this fic slowly, especially the dialogues, because I think a lot gets lost if you speed read it on a screen. That's all. Review please, and enjoy!)

-.-.-

**Chapter 1**: Bonds

Detective Getz stared in confusion at the intruder staring in bewilderment at the couple at the door looking around the office with ill-hidden disdain. Scipio gave a cough somewhere out on the balcony.

"Ericha! Thank heavens we had the maid follow you," she said, and behind her a uniformed girl bowed her head feebly. "We expected that you would do something like this. Now come along, dear, let's get you out of this wretched-."

Victor Getz cleared his throat rather loudly. "Good morning, signora, signore," he said, calmly approaching the two, hands clasped together and a perfectly pleasant smile on his face."

"Good morning, signore," the old lady said dismissively, as though wanting to get rid of the man. Her perfectly-done make-up and designer label clothes spoke of social circles that the detective possibly only dreamt about. "And you are-?"

She was interrupted by her husband, a large hulk of a man who had been largely unnoticed, standing behind his wife. "You are Detective Victor Getz, I presume?" he said, extending a hand to the man. His voice was deep and not unpleasant, and his face had a few wrinkles betraying the youthfulness of his appearance and demeanor. "We are sorry to disturb you so early in the morning. We are only here to collect our daughter over there."

"Come along, Ericha, we have an appointment to keep-," the mother called in her shrill voice once more.

"I've cancelled the interview with the office, mother, I told you at dinner yesterday. Didn't you hear me?"

"Surely you are joking, dear. I worked hard to set this up for you. Wasn't this the opportunity you were waiting for?"

"Are you kidding me, mother? What kind of job interviewee has to be accompanied by her parents? I told you I would find a job on my own," she said, her voice just barely contained.

"It's this childish behavior that proves that you still need our supervision."

"Well if I'm so childish, why are you forcing me into a job interview?"

"Finding you a part-time job over your school break should be a good chance for you to finally mature and learn some responsibility, young lady. You should be thanking us for helping you."

Victor Getz cleared his throat again, so loudly that he started coughing afterwards. Scipio rushed to his side and started patting him on the back while he recovered. The mother and daughter stood there in silence, avoiding eye contact with each other.

When Victor finally caught his breath, he motioned for everyone to sit down around the coffee table, which they did reluctantly, the mother and father on one side, Ericha across from them, and Victor Getz at his table with Scipio at his side.

"I did not become a detective to do family therapy," he mumbled to himself as he arranged the items on his table, then folded his hands and looked over at the troubled trio. "Listen, I couldn't help but overhear your concerns, Mr. and Mrs.-."

"Genuino. Doctor and Doctor Genuino, if you please," the lady answered. "And if you'll excuse us, we have an appointment for a job interview that we have to get to."

"This early in the morning, signora?"

"Well, we were planning to bring her later, if she hadn't escaped from our apartment at the break of dawn. Really, Ericha, what were you thinking?"

"I was _thinking_," she said, throwing some hiss into her words. "that I would ask some help from a competent professional who knows this city well enough to help me find a good part-time job here, instead of always relying on padrinos to get me places."

"Really now, so you're going to hire this private detective here, are you? Where will you get the money to pay his fees, hmm? I certainly will not support this ridiculous venture-."

"Now listen, dear," the father suddenly interrupted, placing a hand on his wife's shoulder. "Think about it. This is the first sign of initiative she's shown in months. I'm sure we can come up with some arrangement for this."

The mother finally calmed down, giving a deep sigh. "Fine. Let's talk this over."

"Good," Victor Getz, mentally patting the father on the back for calming her down. "That is a trick I'll have to learn soon," he thought to himself. Turning to Scipio, he said "Mr. Fortunato, why don't you stay with Ms. Ericha out on the balcony for a while? This discussion may bore you."

"Treating me like a child again," Ericha mumbled under her breath as she rose from her seat and stepped onto the. She looked over her shoulder and saw her parents move over to the chairs at Victor's desk, then Scipio stepped out behind her, and closed the door.

"It's not all bad, you know, being a child. No responsibilities, regular meals, free money-," Scipio said lightheartedly, leaning over the railing.

"I'm turning 19 years old this year, for heavens' sake. And still they don't trust me to find my way around the city myself. We've been here two weeks already."

"Two weeks? Are you on vacation?"

"Yes. No. Not really," Ericha said, leaning on the rail some ways away from Scipio. "I got accepted for a college exchange program here in Venice, for 6 months. The semester starts next month, so I've still got until then to settle myself here."

"And your parents?" Scipio said, inclining his head to indicate them.

"They tagged along to 'supervise' me. Tch. How am I suppose to learn to be independent if they keep hovering around me like that?"

"Your dad seems nice, though." Scipio said, his gaze suddenly lost somewhere among the mansions of the city, barely visible in the morning light and fog.

"Yeah, I like him better than my mom. He trusts me with things. Not like my mom. She wouldn't even let me carry my own money and driver's license around in my wallet! Thinks it'll get snatched from me. I can protect myself against pickpockets well enough, thank you very much. They keep treating me like I'm 12."

"I think I know the feeling," he said, closing his eyes against the breeze. "Wasn't that long ago, either."

"Really? You look around 20ish to me," Ericha said, scrutinizing Scipio's features.

"Well," Scipio suddenly said, standing up straight and scratching the back of his neck. "Time kind of flies really fast in this city. It's like - One moment you're enjoying yourself on a merry-go-round, the next moment you're working as an associate for some happy-go-lucky detective."

Inside, Victor Getz sneezed as he stood up from his desk, rapping on the glass to summon the two back inside.

"I still ride merry-go-rounds," Ericha mumbled, her face a deepening red as she moved back from the railing.

"Hm? Sorry, didn't hear that," Scipio said, walking towards the door.

"Nothing. Nothing at all."


	3. 02 Tails

-.-.-

**Chapter 2:** Tails

A handshake and an exchange of business cards later, the deal with Detective Getz was settled. The couple left contented with their side of the bargain, and Victor Getz contented that they had finally left.

He called Scipio and Ericha only back inside only after her parents closed the front door behind them. She didn't know whether to be grateful she didn't have to face them anymore, or to be offended by their departure without having said goodbye.

"Well then, now that that's settled, I'll explain things to you two," Victor said, ordering them to sit down on the couch while he sat across from them.

"We're not children that you just overlook," Ericha mumbled as she plopped down on the sofa.

"Trust me," the detective said, his ears sharper than most. "In a discussion like that, anyone would _want_ to be overlooked. Demanding people, your folks are. No offense, though."

"None taken," she said, moving over as Scipio sat down beside her.

"So what's the plan, great Detective Getz?" he asked, eager.

"We go along with what this little rebel wants," Victor said. "We escort her around the city and help her get what she wants. One week is the time limit. Get her settled in by then and she's free to do what she wants during her entire exchange program here."

"Sounds fair. That's what I've been begging them to let me do without sending a battalion of maids after me," Ericha said, nodding her head. "But what are they asking in case I don't make the one week limit?"

"You forfeit the exchange program and fly straight home with your parents, and take up that part-time job that'll help you get that scholarship they set up for you at that University."

Ericha groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Ugh. Some choice that is."

"Not a bad deal. It's a huge gamble you've put out on this one, Victor."

"Personally, I'd rather she fly out of here and out of our hands. But it looks like we've got a job to do."

"Wait," Ericha interrupted. "So who's settling the fees now?"

"You are, naturally," Victor said. "Forgot to mention that."

"So should I pay you by the day, by the hour-," she said, counting off on her fingers.

"What are you talking about?" Victor said, gesturing with his hand.

"But aren't I supposed to pay you-?"

"Oh no, it seems I haven't made myself clear," Victor said, leaning forward on his knees. "I won't be working for you. You'll be working for me."

-.-.-

Ericha's brows were knitted together as she sipped from her coffee cup.

"So… what exactly are we doing again?" she asked, putting down her cup quietly.

"I've told you already, we're tailing someone," the man across the café table said in a nonchalant voice, his face hidden behind a newspaper. "And don't finish your coffee too quickly. We don't want to have to buy another one too soon, it's expensive here."

"Why not? My mom and dad drink in places like this all the time…" she whispered under her breath, taking another sip of coffee.

"Well your mom and dad aren't exactly _here_, now, are they?" Scipio suddenly hissed, putting down the newspaper and revealing a moustached face.

"What's the fake moustache for?"

"Sshh!" he hissed again, putting a finger to his mouth. "What is with your questions? It's a disguise, obviously. You know how detectives are supposed to work."

"Detectives are supposed to investigate crime scenes and uncover hidden mysteries, not sit around all morning in an old man's coffee shop," Ericha said, leaning back in her chair, trying to amuse herself with a news magazine.

"Ugh, just like Hornet, with all her books. Aren't you a bit old to still believe Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys?"

"It's not like they're Santa Claus or anything, yeesh. Can't we do something more exciting?"

"It doesn't always turn out like that. We just have to- wait," he said, suddenly looking over Ericha's left shoulder, then stiffening up.

Ericha was puzzled, and sat quietly, observing the people around her. The coffee maker continued to hiss, a couple walked past their table towards the exit, the waiters' quick tap-tapping footsteps punctuating the café din.

"What's happening?" she said, looking around with only her eyes, heart beating a bit faster.

"Follow me. It's time for a little excitement," was all he said, as he stood up slowly, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

-.-.-

Ericha's stomach did butterflies as she had to do quick little sprints to keep up with Scipio's long-legged brisk walk.

"Slow down a bit! I'm not as tall as you, this pace is ridiculous," she hissed at Scipio's back whenever she could come within one foot of the man, hopping and skipping on the cobblestone road to keep up.

"Just keep your voice down and your head low," Scipio said, whispering loudly back at her. "It's the lady with the blue scarf and the dark-skinned man with the red beret. Don't let them spot us."

"I think it's kind of hard not to spot _you_," Ericha whispered back. "Maybe you'd stand out less if you didn't look like some avant-garde super model zipping down a catwalk."

The edges of Scipio's fake moustache fluttered dangerously in the breeze, and people's heads were turning as he zipped by with his long-legged stride.

"Darn, they split up at the plaza," Scipio said, craning his head above the crowd to glimpse the road opening out into a large square up ahead.

Without breaking stride, he grabbed Ericha by her left arm and whispered quickly in her ear. "Quickly, you follow the man with the red beret, he went right. I'll follow the woman on the left."

Ericha could only nod and gulp as they approached the plaza, her ear still tingling from his warm breath.

"Go!" was the last thing that registered as he pushed her off to the right. And suddenly the walls disappeared from around them. The Piazza.

Up ahead of her, just visible above the throng, was the bouncing red beret of the man they were tailing. Ericha quickly blended with the crowd, following the man.

He suddenly stopped and furtively looked around. Ericha crouched and nonchalantly turned and walked away from the man so he wouldn't see her face. Glancing again, she saw the red beret moving steadily farther. She went back to stalking him.

As she came closer, her target suddenly stopped to look behind him once again. Ericha ducked, and tried to make her way to one side. While crouching, she tripped over her own feet and fell forward, throwing out one hand to catch herself. That hand gave and pain shot through her arm as she fell forward, kneeling on the ground.

A small space opened in the crowd around her as people gasped and stared for a while. Between the people, she could see the man with the red beret staring straight at her, before turning abruptly and disappearing into the crowd.

Ericha got up hurriedly, shouting "Drat!," something she decided a split-second later was extremely dumb. Her hand ached terribly, and the red beret was now nowhere in sight.

And then she realized how being in a sea of people could make one feel so alone. And afraid, as her breathing unconsciously grew quicker.

"I am not afraid of crowds, I am not afraid of crowds," she said, looking left and right.

Panic rose higher in her mind as she realized another of her fears. Being lost.

"I am not lost, I am not afraid of crowds, I am not lost," she said to herself, but all she could see were more people bustling about.

Then someone grabbed her from behind.


	4. 03 Seas

-.-.-

**Chapter 3**: Seas

"Aah!" She jumped, trying to get away from the two hands that suddenly grabbed her shoulders. They would not let go. "Get off of me!"

"Hey, calm down," the familiar voice said, releasing their grip.

Ericha turned around to see none other than Scipio, his fake moustache askew as they were continuously jostled by the crowd.

"Oh my God, Scipio, don't ever scare me like that again!" she said, hitting him lightly.

"Well, alright, fine. If you didn't want me to come looking for you in this blasted crowd, just say so beforehand," he said jokingly, looking around to find a way out.

"It's not that-," Ericha said, clinging onto his sleeve. "I didn't mean that part."

Scipio looked at her. "Oh, never mind. Let's just get out of here."

-.-.-

"Here, have some water," Scipio said, handing a bottle to Ericha as he went to lean beside her on the footbridge.

She mumbled her thanks as she took it, grateful for the respite. As she drank it in large gulps, she suddenly realized how empty her stomach was as the water sloshed around. Her stomach growled.

"Oh, sounds like you need more than that, though," Scipio chuckled. "Haven't you had breakfast?"

Ericha blushed slightly. "So I'm a growing girl. I can't help my quick metabolism."

"Hah, I knew it. You were just grumpy because you were hungry. Don't worry, I know a place with great pasta," he said, suddenly starting of. "Come on, it isn't very far."

-.-.-

"Well, now, Scipio, you've developed a habit of bringing home guests, haven't you?" Ida Spavento said, as Scipio and Ericha stood at her gate.

"Oh come on, Ida, it's just for lunch. You've got plenty of food, anyway, and she's a friend working for Victor," Scipio explained as Ericha stood shyly to the side.

"Oh, alright. I know how much that old coot pays you, so I don't mind treating you to lunch. Come in, come in, Ms.-?" she said, motioning to them.

"Ericha," she answered. "Ericha Genuino."

"Well that's a beautiful name. Victor's lucky to have such a dear like you working for him," she said, leading them to the kitchen. "How did you end up working for him, hm? Don't tell me he's picking up orphans off the street again, is he?"

"Oh come on, Ida, I'm no orphan. Just- relatively estranged. She's got parents, still," Scipio said, as they walked through her house.

"Then that's good to hear," Ida said blankly as she called to a little boy in the kitchen. "Bo, set out a couple more places, we have guests for lunch."

"Who is it, Ida?" the little blonde-haired angel said, his eyes sparkling.

"Hey, Scip," Prosper said from where he sat at the table, next to the girl named Hornet.

"Hey there, Prop, Hornet," Scip said, taking a seat across from the two. "This is Ericha, she's working for Victor at the moment."

Ericha bowed slightly to greet them, but started when Bo exclaimed. "Wow, cool, she's as grown-up as Scipio is."

She laughed awkwardly as she took her seat. "You got me there, little guy. Actually, I'm starting college in a month, so yeah, that makes me pretty grown-up."

"What'cha gonna do when you grow up?" Prosper asked casually.

"Hmm, well, I don't know really. I never really put much thought into it," she said, resting her head in her hand. "My parents are always convincing me to becoming a doctor like them, but I hate it when they force me to do stuff without asking me first."

"Well, what do you _want_ to be?" Hornet asked.

"I'm not sure, but music's always sounded good to me," Ericha said, looking off into the distance. "But they're always telling me it's no good, that I'll never make any money. But I don't care, I can take care of myself."

"They remind me of Aunty. I really don't like them," Bo said, putting plates in front of them.

"No need to bring that up here," Ida called out, as she brought in a large platter of spaghetti. "Now dig in, kids."

"Thanks for the meal!" they all said, before digging in.

"I didn't know you wanted to be a musician," Scipio said to Ericha, as he scooped spaghetti into his plate.

"Yeah, well, neither do my parents," Ericha replied vaguely. "Not that they'd care."

"I'm pretty sure they'd care, if only you'd tell them how much you wanted it."

"They never listen anyway. So I'm just gonna go for it myself."

"It's okay to ask for help, you know," Scipio said, before eating a huge scoop of spaghetti, spilling tomato sauce all over.

Ericha laughed at the spectacle. "You're such a kid," she reached for a tissue and handed it to him.

"Aren't we all?"

-.-.-

"So, what have you two accomplished?" Victor Getz asked them as they stood before him in his office.

"Well, I've taught her some snooping stuff, and, uhm-, uh," Scipio began, counting on his hand.

"Ai-ya, I knew I should have done this myself," the detective said, standing up. "Scipio, you continue filing these papers, while I take Ericha out on a real mission."

"You mean that thing with Barbosa's shop?" Scipio said, groaning at the paperwork.

"Precisely that," he said, grabbing his coat. "Come on, Ericha, let's go."

-.-.-

"So-, now you just want me to sit here and sell stuff?" Ericha said, wondering at her new assignment, as they stood in the middle of a crowded shop filled with all sorts of odd objects. Most of the shelves and items were gathering dust, and her nose itched from the faint smoky haze that hung in the room.

"Well, yeah, now you try it out a few hours today, then we'll see if we can leave you here again tomorrow. Sound easy enough for a first assignment?" the detective said, running a finger across the top of the counter.

"Well, what about the stuff Scipio taught me?" she asked, as she looked around warily.

"What did he teach you, anyway?"

"How to tail someone, how to wear disguises," she answered, recounting what they had done earlier that morning.

"Oh blast that boy, he's gone and done something completely unnecessary again. I meant for him to teach you more about the recent burglaries that have been going on at some of the important museums; to prepare you for your assignment."

"What do the burglaries have to do with sitting around in an old shop?"

"Well, I've been asking around at some of the pawnshops, it seems they've been contacted by a shady man trying to sell some very suspicious items. Most of the shop-owners refused, because of the man's frightening demeanor. I suspect he or these items may be connected to these recent robberies. I also suspect that he will try to sell them at any shop possible, not excluding this one. The only thing is, it's been closed since that Barbosa - the original owner, - left. So I'm hoping once we get someone staffed here every day, he'll find it and try to sell the stolen goods here."

"So this is- a trap for the thief?"

"Very much so. And I will need you to keep a lookout for him while keeping this store in order."

"Alright, sounds easy enough," Ericha answered. "But what should I watch out for? How will I know if it's him?"

"He'll try to sell you some valuable items, of course," Getz said, then dropped his tone. "And he calls himself-,

"The Thief Lord."


End file.
